The Last Echoes | Obi-Wan Kenobi x Fem!Reader
Part 2 of ? « previous part
warnings: none, obi-wan's pov, angst with bits of comfort, not y/n, slight mentions of villian!reader, mentions of order 66 and death a.k.a. reader. this takes place in the series and flashbacks during tcw. possible grammar mistakes (english is not my first language). w/c: 3.4k.
Summary: After Obi-Wan Kenobi successfully rescues Leia, he starts to question himself how could his hedonistic beloved possibly end up the way she did, the way he last saw her. Seeking for answers, he reaches for Bail Organa to find out why he —like all the people he loved before— couldn't save her.
"It's easy for you, isn't it?", Obi Wan didn't understand her question. "Play the good guy, doing your part", she explained herself.
It is known that every love tale starts with promises of everlasting affection, to the drowning sensation of being consumed by the image of your loved one. Theirs didn't start nor end like that.
"Maybe we're more similar than you'd like to hear" he twirled his blue lightsaber, his pose relaxing as their fight had stopped again, he never turned his weapon off, neither did she, they just let them rest for a minute.
Their love was unusual, as Obi- Wan recognized that he loved everything he hated about her, and she hated everything he believed in, yet never could hate him. The contradiction installed in themselves not to be blamed as in the eyes of the other they would never be judged.
"Oh, don’t act like you really know me," she chuckled mockingly, "and don't agree with me, fight with me".
She elevated her lightsaber again, striking him fast enough to not harm him, slow enough for him to see it coming. They kept attacking simultaneously, illuminating the little room they were fighting in, gracing each other like children playing tag your it.
She turned it off once they reached a darker part of the compound, becoming invisible to him as she tried to blind her Force signature from him, creeping in the shadows like a bounty hunter, she came out kicked him on his stomach, he turned off his lightsaber too as quickly as a blink, he didn't wish to hurt her.
But that thinking was offending her at that moment.
If Obi-Wan wanted a physical fight, she would give him a war. And she did, she did give him an endless war on his mind that he could never win.
He focused on feeling her, reaching her through the Force, a wrapping sensation fed him up with curiosity, a taste of storm, the smell of petrichor and the color gray, plain defenseless color, the color of cold, of smoke and pain.
She was about to punch him in the face with the back of her arm — an aggressive kiss on his cheek. He stopped it abruptly, being able to turn her into his body, his chest pressed with her back, caging her in an unwanted embrace, a long awaited unrequited display of affection.
"Hurt me back!", she demanded, with all her love and her pain and her rage, "Don't you love to be enemies with me?", she asked rather spitefully, trembling even, as her eyes watered a little.
Obi-Wan could feel it in her Force signature, all of her sadness, and pride, and brokenness and love, confused and disturbed, but still it was love. And as her nails clawed into his arms like a wounded animal, she didn't want to leave his pull on her.
He didn't have to say anything, not even when they were both ignoring the war outside to slip and cuddle on the floor for a minute or two, they were there, holding the other in their arms bruised and unable to heal on their own, feeling each other melt and combine through the Force, so close yet so far.
Obi-Wan had hope in her, he had hope for everyone in fact, but with her was different.
Because hope was an infectious disease that threatened him when he saw her golden eyes, like if her Force signature elevated her in that aura, he let himself be wrapped in it for seconds every encounter, just to sunbathe in her. To know what it felt like to be part of the foreign. When he wasn't paying attention, she could feel him too, mingled with his softer side, as if it cleared her mind. There was no violence, no sharpness, no resistance. Only him.
Obi-Wan didn't want to be her enemy, but he knew they could never be friends, they were the third secret thing, the thing in between loving and hating. Whatever it was, he didn't want to let go.
But he had to open his eyes, to welcome reality and wake up to another setting totally different to the one he was engaging with inside his mind. He had become an old man in a chair, delusional with his own past, trying to decode it like a cryptic message. Instead she guarded him hidden in the shadows, and he daydreamed about her in the passenger's seat.
Another mission accomplished. Another time to feel like the hero.
If he succeeded, why didn't he feel completely relieved? Holding Leia's hand he could reminisce a glimpse of his past, the numerous times he held little Anakin's with caution when he missed his mom in the coldness of the immense space, the almost identical gentle grip to not shatter her dreams the very way he shattered her past already. Because guilt wasn't completely washed away, their encounter was not even near to be over, it would linger within his soul till the twins became of age and learned the truth of their origins.
The same way her memoir would burn his soul for the next few years of his existence. His sweet viper, his hedonistic beloved, his tiny little hope.
Egotistically, she was the only thought his mind could fully develop without the shadow of Anakin's demise and the possession of Darth Vader. She was now entirely his problem, his last nightmare.
Obi-Wan Kenobi was the last register of your existence.
In their brief fight, Darth Vader had revealed to him how she had disappeared once more, allegedly by Kenobi's hand. The Sith Lord couldn't be more wrong, as Obi-Wan could barely see her corpse for less than five minutes. There was no way she had just stood up and left the fortress, she was very much dead, they both saw how she was not with him.
But that didn't matter in a fight like that, nor the next one. All that mattered was that little Leia was safe and at home again, the same way Luke would be protected from the ghosts that followed him, Obi-Wan knew now he wouldn't need him for the next few years.
Oh how much he missed to be needed. How he missed to feel their bond, to call her through his commlink in those misty lonely nights.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
Pacing restless at his quarters, he felt the call of his own fears take in his spirit, he had fought as he believed was right. The burning bruises lingered in his arms and back, nothing comparable to the touch of the blaster's shot she received to protect him.
And he had noticed how it started to become more frequent, she didn't attack him when he fell to the floor merciless anymore, she waited for him to catch his breath and even handed him his lightsaber when she made it fall, it happened multiple times which stopped being isolated moments. Simple coincidences became premeditated displays of mutual admiration.
Aren't you supposed to kill the enemy?
Then why take care of him?
Why did he want to comfort her?
Whatever bruises and scratches he had, was little to the scar she would wear.
"Hello?... Hello?" she had answered believing it was a mistake, perhaps bad coverage from the sleazy place she found on a remote planet.
His blurry face came more into view, a clear shape of a man he had seen for a while, gentle blue eyes that haunted her like a ghost, a ghost of a promised hope that shall never come.
In the pit of intrigues and destroyed battleships, lied the face of a man that she yearned to know, whose only known facts revolved into thoughts of war, after the wars begun there was no time for anything else, and with her misleading to the acclaimed wrong side it was certain they weren't going to become the best of friends. In fact, it was forbidden to seek contact between each other, even could be considered an act of high treason to the ideals of the Republic.
Yet they were there, he was there more likely, pretending he didn't fancy her, as he would unknowingly pretend for the rest of his life that he didn't attain feelings beyond platonic for another being ever in his heart. But how to admit out loud to her what he could not even make up to himself?
It was not in his plans to do it, but after seeing her injured, he knew he had to at least find a way to reach out to her as well as he knew how wrong it was, and there he was anyway, furrowing his brow when heard her muffled groan.
"Does it hurt?" he asked worriedly watching the hologram's movements, she was dense in the brim, a shadow whose light was only seen in the darkest of nights — his deadly firefly.
What did it hurt? The distance? The code? The war? The duty? The different ideologies? The unrequited feelings? The sense of betrayal?
"I'll live, Kenobi," she said reassuringly, attending to her wound.
Minutes of silence went by, none of them knowing what to say. What could possibly unite them that could make their bond bloom? What could be strong enough to not break them? He had never felt such a connection with anyone, he was frightened and elevated, not even with his fellow Force sensitive.
Obi-Wan criticized Satine at her time, of her idealistic thinking and her ideal way of seeing politics. She saw peace where he saw war, she saw solutions in the middle of all of his conflicts. And now it seemed that the tables had turned. Because Obi-Wan chose to see the good in a Sith like in everything else.
Would she laugh at him if she was there? Would she make jokes on him and judge him? Remind him of how impossible it is to love him? But oh! How much he wanted to care for someone at the end of the battle.
Part of being a Jedi was to acknowledge nothing was entirely black and white, like good and evil. Someone who wants to kill you won't let you escape from his grasp. The hint was there, out in the wild to interpret for the both of them. Obi-Wan did know it wasn't the first time it happened, but didn't know when it would be the last, and as much as a relief could mean to another couple of opponents, to him the thought was too much to handle.
"You're thinking too loud," she falsely complained to tease him.
"Pardon me?", he asked, maybe too serious, too trailed away from his initial thoughts, as if she was capable of reading him the same way he had tried to read her.
"I was joking. You stayed very still with your hand on your beard like this," she imitated his pose through the device to show him the exact position he was in, which immediately made him cease from it.
"I don't look like that".
This mildly outrageous comment made her laugh, not a mischievous laughing like she used to, a pleasant sincere one, that in response made him smirk.
"But you do look like this", no one would have believed Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi could make weird gestures to a hologram, but there he was, forgetting the point of his call in the warmth of her laughter.
"That's mean even for a Jedi", her giggles were the cure for his uneasiness, a strange mix of security and danger. "How did you intercept this signal?".
Her voice pitched lower, to mask the frightening sensation that erased her hopes of hearing him admit the unspeakable, the same feelings that have been burning her heart for so many eons ago. She knew very well Jedi couldn't acquire feelings like those, as sentients as they were, they were dangerous for the mere reason of blurring the lines between love and attachment, there was no known Jedi who could love selflessly.
And yet, her darkest desire was feeling herself hanging on the lips of his secret love, General Kenobi.
Now it was Kenobi's turn to lie or speak his truth, uneasy by her sudden hostility, her way to seek for security, perhaps he would do the same in her situation.
"I— " he wavered a little. What was he supposed to say? 'I was looking for you', 'I was worried about you', 'I don't want you to get hurt', it wasn't appropriate. "Wanted to make sure you— ".
He was never at a loss of words, he always knew what to say even when he drifted his mind away from conversations, though his mind decided to stop being assertive while speaking to her.
"Make sure I?".
"Weren't dead", worry was the very first feeling which turned into fear. A sensation he didn't want to let dominate him, that he couldn't let pass.
But he couldn't help himself, didn't he? And a little corruption occurred, the first of his life, the last of his night.
It was just so alluring, the way she had him trapped into contradiction, finding affection inside aggression. When did it start that he didn't realize? That he made things for her too and made the isolated a currency, — that he was slowly bending the rules for her.
He couldn't neglect he had failed his stances to not hurt her, or that he hadn't purposefully used the Force to put things out of her way before getting herself into a fatal accident, that he —an experimented general—avoided capturing her every chance he got. An innocent mistake at first that led to a series of unconscious love games.
"How thoughtful of you", the sarcasm of her expression couldn't mask the sweet tone in which she spoke. "Why do you care?", her inquiry was actually concerned, she didn't want to escape again after finding a safe remote place with the few last credits she had only because a Jedi decided he was a good prize to show his little Council.
He seemed to think about it a little longer than expected, waiting carefully to respond to her. The right thing would be to hang up and rethink what he was doing, threaten her even if he was that daunting to make room for speculations of disgust upon her. He didn't want that. Thus he smiled, sincerely, the very same way she smiled to the poor children living on the inferior levels of Coruscant.
"Why did you save me?" he had set with that question the start of something he would not be able to control in the foreseeable future, a never ending longing.
But he needed to know. He must know, otherwise, he was afraid she would be that last thing he thought about before going to sleep, the first thing he thought about after waking up.
"Don't dare to get it wrong, mere courtesy that's all", she boldly assured, as she couldn't give herself the privilege of giving him false hopes, "if that's why you called, I suggest you to hang up". She drifted her gaze away from his holo, she was trying hard to make him leave.
Even to her that seemed like a logical action on Obi-Wan's mind, if only he wasn't too tired to comply with all the unbreakable rules and detached a little from his perfect Jedi image.
How could Obi-Wan tell her that just because no one else can see it, he doesn't love her any less?
"I called for other circumstances" he declared carelessly, taking a seat in a meditation position now as he expected for the night to be as long as he could maintain it.
"Which are?".
"No one deserves to be alone" Obi-Wan muttered, he had made his way with words, as he had read her, she was so lonely.
"I said I'll live", she stumbled trying to get a seat.
Her wound was profound yet curable, Obi-Wan still could see her pain through the commlink, he didn't feel at ease knowing she was in another side of the galaxy in pain. So far from him, and he didn't want to think her helpless, but he did think her stubborn, she would never let him help her, so asking her to give him her location and go after her was out of the picture.
But he wished he could follow her wherever she goes.
⋆ ⋆ ⋆
He was trained to believe the Jedi way wasn't a solitude path, but now that he thought about it more, it does feel lonely, although it was proven a Jedi Master never truly is.
As long as he was connected to the Force, he was connected to all beings he protects. A Jedi Master is the watcher, the caretaker, the guardian. He is not just the sword nor just the shield, he is both the light and the darkness. He is in the shadows, watching over his loved ones, supposedly protecting his allies. For years inside his mind he held this guilt on his chest, that he chose to protect his enemies, not once but twice.
Still, what was all about when no one was safe? When every being he swore to protect was now in the claws of a cruel ruler? If there was no escape? If he was the shield, where was his sword? His loved one?
She had shattered his heart by giving him that which he could never have, which he could not live without once tasted and memorized — the contentment of their conflicted companionship.
"What will you do now?" Bail asked now that Leia was gone and Obi-Wan was about to leave on his ship.
"Wait" he said calmly, "my duty won't be over until they know" this was the scary part, the fear of making the same old mistakes. A tired sigh leaving his chest.
"On Tatooine?" insisted Bail, slowly conducting his chatting to her, to free Obi-Wan from another headache and give him that last peace of mind he knew he needed, he deserved to know after all he had been through.
"I have nowhere else to go", he claimed, stroking lightly his beard, trying to remove the uncomfortable feeling of himself, without her alive, he had no reasons anymore to leave Tatooine and fulfill his duty.
"I must tell you... The side of the story you know about her is incomplete", as much as she caused problems to him in the past, he recognized how selfless she had been fighting against the empire the first few years. "She didn't die as a traitor, the Inquisitors punished her for helping a Jedi".
"What?... How?". He realized now Bail knew the reason she was caged Vader's Fortress.
"She helped Ahsoka survive an attack to arrive to Malachor where she is exiled now, Ahsoka couldn't have escaped successfully if it weren't for her, we couldn't get her out and Vader...", Bail wasn't able to end his train of thought, confusion struck Obi-Wan like a needle through his heart "I just thought you had to know".
Bail was worried to break Obi-Wan's spirits more on Anakin's actions, because the former Jedi could imagine what was going on inside Darth Vader's mind — by punishing you he was punishing him.
Obi-Wan asked who this mysterious someone was, pretending not to know who Bail was talking about before his lips pronounced your name too loud and clear to be mistaken, too loud for every corner of his body to know. His poison ivy, his rotten fruit, his lovable stinger.
Why did it have to be too late to follow her?
He nodded to him in silence and watched him leave as the ship took off. Heartbroken, he was silently content about being right about her, to put his trust and hopes in her.
He didn't know what to do on his way back to Tatooine, only how to feel, the anguish and despair, the inutility, to measure all of the things he failed to express at the right time. Was it possible that she died without knowing how much she was loved? Could the Maker be able to let such cruel condemnation happen?
When your duty is over...
Perhaps, the misunderstanding of their promise by his end, the oath he devotedly kept under his wing to be his precious secret was now one side of the cliff's whisper. Closing his eyes, he could still see her pleading eyes, the exact same eyes that made him wake up abruptly night after night.
Meet me...
At the end, she had died the way she lived, in the darkness of night.
A/N: Hi! I was working on this since I posted the previous part, I was thinking of making it a shot fic, which mean another 2 parts more coming if my imagination let me to. With that said, if you want to still be tagged do nothing, i'll keep tagging you. If you want to be added or being removed in the next parts, comment this part (no worries, i won't mind) or send me an ask (i'll keep it private) as I won't be counting just likes bc i realized its very ambiguous to know who wants to be tagged or not. Thank you so much for liking and rebbloging.
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